Anastacia meekly followed the cat-shaped mess of thorns along one of the larger surfaced roots which ran across much of the grove without the need to climb over anything else along the way. It had taken some convincing to get her to ignore every warning by her body and mind were constantly barraging her with at their most basest levels. However, one of the main reasons Anastacia was in the grove in the first place was to learn. Out of the three seemingly more important spirits, Acacia seemed like the most amicable one when it came to the outside world, and would be able to answer questions related to it with less prejudice than the other two.

Following the spriggan’s lead, the necromancer hopped from one root to another as they slowly made their way towards the large tree presiding over the grove. “That was you in my dream, right?” She finally worked up the courage to ask.

“Likely. It was not intentional, mind you.” The cat smirked. “It is simply a product of the instincts build into the bodies of lesser beings, to warn them of those who would hunt them… You might have the spirit of a mighty one, but in flesh and blood you’re still just a human child – and that human child is rightly terrified.”

“I see…” Anastacia frowned.

“But don’t let your frail little body get the better of you, you are in good hands here. Just as your body reacts to my presence, our spirits are affected by yours – hence why the others are still hesitant to approach. Your spirit is something they haven’t seen in a time that would boggle your mind, seeing it brings them back to the ages before, once they recognize it.”

While there may have been implications of much more importance in the explanation, all Anastacia grasped from it was something much more trivial. “Is that true for Xamiliere as well?”

The cat cackled worryingly. “Such mundane worries! Yes, that girl is not blind to it either, but I wouldn’t worry about it being the reason behind her affection. She has found her place in this age and has no reason to look into the past with fond memories. To her, I would liken your spirit simply as an additional feature not many others are able to see. Captivating, but ultimately superficial. It may have been what initially sparked her interest though.”

“Well, that’s good.” Anastacia muttered relievedly before yet another leap brought her thoughts back to the situation at hand. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Bear hunting.” Acacia simply stated without the undertone of jest normal to them.

“What?” Knowing there were no bears in the grove, Anastacia wondered if it was some kind of an in joke she didn’t get.

Refusing to extrapolate further, Acacia kept leading the necromancer across the root-filled landscape until they came to a fairly remote-looking nook of the clearing. The cat sat down and nodded towards the treeline in the distance, where a bear-shaped nature spirit seemed to be conversing with a couple of other spriggans.

“Okay? What about them?” Anastacia asked.

The thorns from Acacia’s feet spread into the bark of the root below and their words took a considerably more sinister tone that drowned the mischievousness from before. “That right there is the one who did a number on Sorbus and Xamiliere earlier.” They whispered as the thorns spread further in every direction, from plan to plant, regardless if that plant was supposed to carry thorns of any kind. Barely giving the necromancer room to move, they covered every surface around the two.

Without a word, Anastacia grabbed one of the bone needles she still had left on her, floated it up in the air to aim it directly at the bear in the distance. Not hesitating for a moment and fueled by spite for the one who had hurt her friends, she launched it with enough force to turn the bear and a couple of trees behind them into splinters. Something which would have needed much more effort with lesser motivators, but now seemed like the bare minimum at the time. However, as soon as it left the area where Anastacia’s powers were at their most intense, several thorny vines sprouted from the root under it and only barely managed to catch it from the air after the needle pulverized the first few that had attempted.

Shooting an annoyed glare at the correctly presumed culprit beside her, Anastacia wasn’t about to give up. All of the remaining needles detached themselves from their holsters and aligned with their target above her head.

“That’s quite enough.” Acacia grinned approvingly, and surrounded themselves with an aura so horrifying that it almost caused the necromancer to instinctively panic and lose control of her ammunition. “I just wanted to see your reaction. This one is mine.”

As the vines returned the needle to Anastacia, thorns much longer and sharper grew from the surrounding roots and spread into the direction of the still unaware bear. By the time the trees and grass around them started to grow thorns, Ocotea must have realized the situation they were in as their spirit immediately abandoned the wooden husk it had inhabited – only to somehow be barred entry into the soil by the thorny moss and grass, which forced it back into the body. Ocotea had time for one frightened glance in the direction of Acacia and Anastacia before a tree sprouted from below them and impaled the bear. Growing to its full size in seconds, the branches of the tree had no leaves on them, but simply more thorns that tore apart their unfortunate victim limb by limb. Ocotea’s screams gathered some attention from even the spriggans that weren’t following Anastacia from distance, but every single one of them quickly decided that butting into Acacia’s dealings wasn’t something they wanted. After what must have been only a few moments but had felt far longer than that, the bear’s spirit was finally allowed to escape, but the remnants of the punishment were left behind, even after the thorns elsewhere started to retreat back towards the cat.

Stacking the needles in her hand and painstakingly sliding them back into their loops on her clothing, Anastacia waited for the menacing aura to subside before asking anything. “Care to tell me what happened there?”

“I have my reasons, just like you have yours.” Acacia smirked and stretched before laying down on a comfortable-looking nook between overlapping roots. “Now that we got vengeance out of the way, we can have a more peaceful chat. Your little head is full of questions, I bet, and for once there is a wise, ancient being to answer them without the intent to try and eat you.”

Anastacia sat down on the root, out of immediate reach, mostly to spare her own nerves that still had a hard time settling around the unpredictable spriggan. She certainly had plenty of questions, so much so that she didn’t even know where to start. It was unclear how much of her real identity Acacia knew, and which topics were better to be avoided – such as goblins.

“You have curious markings on your arm. They remind me of the first artificial children. Curious little things, not really machines, not really people. We’ve never had any business with them so their purposes always seem so mysterious. One would think they had nothing to do now that the aureun are gone, but that seems far from the truth, they still scurry about all the time.” Acacia suddenly said and curiously inspected the scars spreading from the core on Anastacia’s shoulder.

The necromancer flashed the currently empty socket on her shoulder. “They come from this. I can sort of communicate with simulacra with it. It’s hard to explain and I’m not fully familiar with it yet.” She said since the spriggan didn’t seem to mind the ancient machines.

“Fascinating! About time someone asked them what they were up to. Some time after the aureun were wiped out, I broke into one of them dungeons they left behind. Shattered Promise, I think it was called, something depressing like that. Must’ve been lost there for at least two decades before I found this little room where they had a few trees and I was able to make it back here. Saw all sorts of wild stuff down there. Like there was this one hall, where they were dropping a huge stone pillar for hundreds of meters just to have it hit a piece of metal and only to lift it back up again. Would have been great to have a chat with some of the ones working there, but they weren’t interested.” The cat reminisced delightedly. “The aureun never much cared for their children, beyond their creation that is. It is good to see that someone is trying to pick up the slack.”

While the spriggan marveled at the fragments of glass-like material stuck inside the scars in Anastacia’s arm, no doubt drawing many conclusions about it, the necromancer herself arranged some of her more pressing questions into an order of importance.

“You said you dealt with the violet sect when they tried to contact you. I warned them on our last encounter, but I don’t think that’ll keep them out of my way. Is there anything useful you can tell me about them, something that could help to rid the world of them?” She asked, hoping there was an easy solution to the growing problem of the sect popping up everywhere she went, and ideally forming some sort of an alliance where she could rely on the grove should things get out of hand.

Acacia spent a moment reading the necromancer’s expression and probably at least to a degree, her thoughts, trying to find out the true reasons behind the question before even answering. “There is not much to tell you, if I’m being honest. Our little scuffle was brief and I didn’t get the chance to squeeze them for answers either, but I’ll share my observations.” They smirked slyly, likely having found what they had been looking for. “They came offering promises of power, knowledge and immortality – the usual trappings of someone who is lying through their teeth. Unfortunately for them, we already had all those and more, but I know, even without you warning me of them, that the gifts they offer are nothing short of curses. Power at the cost of your previous life, knowledge at the cost of reason, and immortality at the cost of your soul. What power they had, was a twisted and cursed joke, afflicted by some source I don’t know of. What knowledge they had may have been true, but it had driven them to conclusions that should not be made… Their ’immortality’ was to be torn from the cycle, leaving their souls as cancerous growths within them. Not all souls are meant to be immortal, you know. Souls of mortals are made intentionally malleable, as their job is to collect all the feelings, experiences and thoughts while still allowing growth. Those immortal and still in possession of a soul, will find theirs rigid, so that it can last in a timeless being, but that does mean it takes us all of eternity to grow as much as mortals do in their brief flash of life. Any attempt to make a mortal soul become timeless only results in things that leave you wish you had no soul at all.

“The followers stringed along by the one in charge were nothing but sick and twisted jokes left of once notable mortals. Idiots tempted by promises, their minds and souls made to endure things no mortals could. Funnily enough, their immortality came with no guarantees and shattering their body left their now immortal soul to be swept away by the wind with no hope of ending their torment. I doubt someone of your proven might will have much trouble showing them their mistakes, though I would note that each of them had once been of considerable skill or heft, so they might still be capable of who knows what.

“The one in charge was different though. Time and the corrupting influence they had been affected by had blurred the line between their soul and body. This does make killing them difficult, as their body will continue to reflect how their soul sees it, no matter what you do to it. I can’t claim to know what it would take to end such a cursed thing.” They gave a fairly detailed explanation, largely confirming what Anastacia already knew, but with more reason behind it.

“One of them has already been killed, but before that, he pretty much told me what it takes.” Anastacia shared her own knowledge. “They can only be truly harmed by someone is either red or white, in the sense of the chromatic orders of necromancers. I think it has something to do with the war they lost against the red inquisition before they disappeared…”

“AH!” The spriggan exclaimed as they seemed to realize something. “That does make sense! The defeat they suffered against the red ones instilled a fear within them, and since their form is largely a reflection of what how they see themselves, the knowledge that they can be defeated by this inquisition makes it a reality for them. So you can simply task this red inquisition to rid the world of them?”

Anastacia winced. “Well. I may have wiped the inquisition out a while ago… The one from the sect who was killed, Eminence, was dealt with by someone with similar tendencies – and she’s now somewhere out there. Being considered ‘red’ isn’t limited to necromancers though, so there are still some options there. If what you say is true, I think the ones from the sect simply need to identify similarities to the inquisitors in someone for it to work.” She theorized, hopefully simply glossing over first part.

Acacia obviously took notice of the admission, but only reacted to it with a sly grin. “But why make it too complicated for ourselves? You said ‘red or white’, and well, I can confidently say that you have the makings of a white one.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d need to be crowned as one for it to count. That was the reason why I couldn’t personally kill Eminence, not the lack of trying. There hasn’t been a white one for a while now, so I don’t know if there’s like a specific crown or ritual or something. Just everyone agreeing that I could be one probably doesn’t cut it.” Shrugged the necromancer.

“Now that you mention it, I remember there being some kind of an upset over crowns back in the day. You might want to ask Ulmus about that, they’re the one who remembers that sort of stuff. It didn’t involve myself so I didn’t exactly pay attention…” The spriggan lazily reminisced, visibly less interested in such details than the overall topic of figuring out how to kill one of the more important members of the violet sect. They even went out of their way to yawn when Anastacia paused to peruse her own memory of anything related to being crowned as the white one, something which was not at all a thing spriggans did naturally, and very clearly acted as a hint to move on with the conversation.

Fearing the mischief she would have to deal with if she let Acacia become too bored, Anastacia quickly tried to come up with something to ask from the supposedly god-killing spirit – something she suddenly found a lot more believable after her nightmare. “Oh…” She suddenly realized there was an issue this particular nature spirit could help with. “You know a thing or two about gods, right?”

The green energy within Acacia immediately flared up as more pairs of eyes briefly flashed around Anastacia, as if they had been inspecting her the entire time but had only now been roused enough to reveal themselves. “You could indeed say that… Is there one that warrants my attention?” They asked in a way that trickled both hatred and excitement.

“Nooo… This one is actually the one that unckicked my bucket, so please don’t eat her.” Anastacia tried to calm the spriggan out of their murderous mood.

A sudden, awfully Sorbus-like vacant expression curbed the vicious grin on Acacia’s face as the constantly moving thorns in their body stalled and the additional glowing pairs of feline eyes sputtered out of sight one by one. “A god, like one of those supposedly divine dipshits, did that?” They asked, struggling with the whole idea. “Why?!”

“Who knows. I’m not complaining though.” The necromancer shrugged and rubbed her throat. She figured that even if Sylvia helping her didn’t incite wrath in the spriggan, it was probably still for the best to leave the deity’s name out to not give them a target. She even tried her best to not think about the name. “Anyway, I have this friend who-“

“That’s going to piss off so many other gods… Does this ‘Sylvia’ have a death wish or something? A possible white one too… Oh wow.” Acacia muttered almost nervously and revealed that nothing was going to be left as a secret, no matter how hard Anastacia tried.

“What do you mean, is it that big of a deal?” Worried the necromancer.

“Obviously it is! Their whole scam is based on you mortals dying so that they can leech off the cycle of souls while pretending to be the ones who make it all work according to fates’ designs. Just resurrecting someone for one’s own needs is a dangerous door to open since it pretty much defeats the point of the whole thing. it would be bad enough when other gods heard about it, but that someone being you – one of the very few people in history capable of taking over the role of Sir Alabaster! You know, the one who literally killed so many gods that they needed to make more to stop him – and a hefty chunk of people in the process as well.” The spriggan explained, clearly impressed either by the boldness or the sheer stupidity of the move. “There’s painting a target on your back and then there’s what she did. That’s amazing!”

“Should I be worried?” Anastacia asked, fearing that the said target on the back also extended to her.

Acacia chuckled. “Probably not? If this Sylvia is still up and kicking, there’s likely bigger shenanigans afoot. Either her actions are hidden by someone or she is being protected.” They reassured the necromancer, but must have noticed how little that eased her mind. “Tell you what, should a situation come to pass where something divine threatens you, whisper my name to the nearest plant and I will swoop in to handle it! But I warn you, my services are not cheap. If there is no divine feast waiting for me, I will find something else to eat…”

While it did in some sense make Anastacia feel better, having someone like Acacia be nothing but a single word away was equal parts useful and terrifying. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“But I believe you had a question about something?” The spriggan ended the tangent they had gotten caught up on.

“Right! I have a friend who is in the service of this goddess, a regular human as far as I know, but recently she somehow became untouchable by my powers. We reasoned that the most likely cause was something relating to the gods, but don’t really know all that much about them. Do you know anything that could explain it or if we should be worried?” Anastacia finally got around to ask her question regarding Emilia’s condition.

“Ohohohoo?!” The cat immediately chortled delightedly. “It certainly could be! It is entirely possible that their connection would eventually nudge your friend’s body too far to the side of the divine and become inert to powers originating from our side of the world. I’m doubtful anything else has changed, but I would keep an eye on your friend. It’s also worth mentioning that any kind of a pact with a sufficiently powerful being would ward off necromancy to varying degrees – I bet even I could make one if I tried.”

Though it did sound concerning at first, at least knowing it indeed was likely to be Sylvia’s doings instead of something that happened to the priestess in the depths of the machine fortress was of some comfort. Anastacia figured she would consult Rosie again before deciding if she would ask Emilia herself about the whole thing – unless she could figure out a way to contact the goddess somehow. “She’s pretty into it, so I think it’s safe to assume it’s Sylvia’s doings.”

“If you say so… Drawing strength from greater beings, gods or otherwise, is an addictive thing and rarely stops with one.” The spriggan warned ominously.

Anastacia hadn’t forgotten about the fiend that had accompanied Emilia in the fortress, but the priestess didn’t have a single kind or even tepid word to offer about the being, and a deal between the two seemed unlikely. As far as she knew, Sylvia had immediately banished the fiend into whatever hole it crawled out from as well.

As the necromancer digested what she had learned so far and outlined some rough plans for what she might do once they were done in the grove, Acacia kept eager watch on her. “You are a curious little necromancer, did you know that?” They suddenly said. “I’m sure it comes as no surprise that our chat was for me to poke and prod at you, without the interference from others. You carry secrets that are better left unsaid, even to Ulmus should you two converse further, and especially to Picea. Stick to your story with both of them.”

Anastacia glanced at the smugly grinning cat a couple of meters away from her but didn’t say anything.

“There is one more important matter we must discuss before moving on to the trivial stuff I’m only slightly interested in.” Acacia declared, now that they had proven the necromancer hadn’t fooled her with her half-false identity, they seemed to lose interest in that as well.

“Not this again…” The necromancer groaned, already anticipating what she next subject was.

“Yes this again!” The spriggan exclaimed. “What’s the holdup with you two? Has there been any development since you got here? And that whole thing with Sorbus’ new body was just painful to watch, you know she isn’t going to forget about it, right?”

“You do realize that there’s zero chance of anything happening now that I know you’re constantly watching?” Anastacia pointed out.

“That’s not even what I mean. We assumed you two were a bit further along because you seem so close, admittedly, that was our mistake – but you’re going to need to give her something sooner or later.” Acacia sighed. “Ideally sooner, before anything else happens.”

Anastacia raised her brow. “’Anything else’? That sounds like you know something...”

“Lets just say that the news of your preferences when it comes to company have already spread like wildfire among those who wish to have an audience with you, now that they’ve seen that you won’t be taken by the big meanies of this place.” Explained the spriggan and nodded towards the curious onlookers in the distance, who were now ever so slightly closer. “Won’t be long until one of them gathers their courage and has enough confidence in their crude imitation of a human form to approach you.”

“If they can do so politely, I have no reason to not hear them out.” Anastacia shrugged, she was actually looking forward to meeting more of the spirits, hopefully some of whom weren’t complete assholes.

Acacia nodded. “Of course, of course! But are you that blind to the damage you might cause upon Xamiliere’s metaphorical heart? Her confidence is already in ruins after from what happened earlier and her worries that someone else might catch your eye have grown tenfold. If this is truly something you intend to go through with, consider your actions henceforth with a bit more care.”

Though she had found herself enjoying the few moments of closeness with Xamiliere, exactly what she wanted out of them was still just as much of a mystery to her as it had been a few days ago. She didn’t even know the reason for her own assertiveness lately, aside from suspecting that it had something to with the spriggan acting more reserved in the grove and her missing their usual skinship – even with King, it was something she treasured to a point where Emilia often had to step in to limit it in public places for the sake of decency. In fact, she wasn’t entirely clear on what exactly ‘going through’ with it even included, or where ‘not necessarily going through with it’ turned into ‘going through with it’. Being in a relationship with King had truly spoiled her when it came to learning what it even meant to be in a relationship.

Witnessing the mental struggle the necromancer was having from the outside, Acacia took their sweet time before speaking up to help. “If only there was someone here, who might have some answers to whatever it is that you seem to struggle with.”

“I… I have no idea what I’m doing.” Anastacia admitted since it was clear that keeping secrets from the cat was pointless. “How do I know if I want this to turn into something?”

“That’s something you’ll find out when it happens. When you know, you know. Not knowing is a fine part of it as well, shows you’re putting thought into it, which isn’t strictly necessary either.” Acacia gave rather vague answer.

“That’s incredibly unhelpful” The necromancer groaned and leaned back to stare at the large branches above, as if they had any better advice.

Acacia laughed. “That’s unfortunately all there is to it. One day you’re minding your business in the woods, gnawing on the throat of a duskwarden because it kept screwing with your forest, when you notice a wee child staring from between the trees. You help them find their way back home, get invited for a paltry meal as a reward by the little thing’s mother, who can barely put food on the table for herself and her two useless kids after their father just kind of fucked off. So you do the fair thing and help them out when you have the time by making sure the runts are fed and safe. You start spending more and more time over there without really noticing it at first because they’re the only moments of peace in your life. One time things get intimate when the kids are doing who knows what somewhere outside, and the next thing you know, you’ve broken into a brothel on the other side of the world and crushed some dipshit sailor’s head for abandoning what is undoubtedly the most beautiful and magnificent being in the world with the burden of trying to bring up two children alone, when you suddenly realize that you want to be there for her for the rest of her life.”

It took a moment for Anastacia to catch up with what was being said. “That… is a very specific example.”

“What can I say, I have a vivid imagination.” The cat grinned with a rare hint of warmth in their expression.

“So if it’s normal to not know anything yet, what am I supposed to do?” Anastacia asked.

“You’re fortunate in the sense that Xamiliere isn’t going anywhere, so take your time to learn what works for you.” Acacia advised her. “But as an immediate measure, abolish uncertainty. Do something to make it clear you are here for her and not for the other spirits – if that is the case, of course…”